An Angel Returned
by Dani Jones
Summary: After Didyme's death, Marcus became a shell of his former self...but true love always returns. So what happens when Marcus finds a human exactly resembling his lost love? Can a heart still break once it's stopped beating? OC/Marcus; reviews are critical!
1. Coincidence?

**A/N: *****facepalm* I really should stop starting new stories before I finish the older ones…but I couldn't help myself.**

**I've always wanted to write a story about Marcus—seeing how I've written a tale a few tales about Aro and one about Caius—my OCD wanted me to include the more underrated Master. I'm going to need a TON of direction with this one since it's pretty far-fetched. **

**Enjoy, and please give a struggling soul feedback. **

**Loves,**

**Dani Jones**

* * *

><p><em> "Volterra is lovely this time of year Amelia; you will absolutely love it!"<em>

"That's very sweet of you Fabrizzio, but I can't afford to take time off of school right now."

"_Don't be ridiculous; you're the best student in the university. Just tell the professor that you're going abroad to study art, and he'll give you roaming credits."_

"That's called being sneaky."

The voice of my classmate on the other line groaned, spewing out a short phrase in Italian that I only caught half of. I thought since I've been living in Italy for six months as an exchange student that I would have picked up the language by now.

But then again…I did not pick up things very easily anyway – except the visual arts. My parents always prided my seemingly natural ability to sketch, paint, doodle, and shade at the drop of a hat. Because of this talent—and my lack of others with any other subject—they sent me as an exchange student from Massachusetts, USA, to Florence, Italy.

That was their last favor to me. Shortly before I left for Italy, my family was killed in a freak car-accident that also claimed the life of the driver of the opposite vehicle.

I had no one left.

Perfect; moving to Italy with no strings attached.

I moved the phone away from my mouth and closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose and thinking quickly through my options.

_I could go to Volterra for a weekend. I hear they have a museum full of art, and a clock tower that dates back before the Renaissance. _

"Fine…fine, you win. I'll go for a weekend."

"_For the 'win'!" _Fabrizzio cheered.

"Shut it," I growled in reply, "But I'm only going for two days. Count 'em; two."

"_Have fun_!" he trilled.

With an exasperated sigh, I hung up the phone. I tucked a stray strand of my blonde hair out of my face, completely irritated that I now had three days to plan for a vacation I was not looking forward to.

{ ~ }

_Gad, I really should have thought this out more._

I clutched a small map in my hand—one written in smudged hand-written Italian—glancing helplessly around the identical and narrow streets of Volterra. The sun blazed hotly above my head, and I felt that it the humidity was actually affecting my thought process.

_I really should have brought some water._

With a small sigh, I continued trudging across the aged cobblestone, listening to the tolling of a clock tower—probably the one I was looking for—somewhere nearby. I turned a corner, emerging from the shadow of a building into a broad and very wide courtyard, squinting my eyes as the sun bounced off of the clear water that rested peacefully in an elaborate fountain placed right in the middle of it.

I shielded my eyes with my hand and glanced at the largest building in the square before me, seeing the iron hands of the clock pointing the time to be a few minutes past five in the afternoon.

I looked back down at my map. The clock tower had to be there somewhere.

_Ah-ha._

I spotted it, and raked my eyes over the tattered map once again for the hotel I was supposed to be staying at. I growled in sheer annoyance as I recalculated my route, and found that I had been traveling in the wrong direction for about an hour.

_The scenery all looks the same here!_

"Fetchin' dang it…." I mumbled; using what my mother used to call 'clean' profanity.

I let my arm fall to my side in exasperation as I continued to mumble darkly, trying to decide on my next course of action.

I listened to the citizens mill about around me, going about their lives. A little girl laughed behind me, while a pair of women chattered just past the fountain, and a father yelled for his children to come inside.

But one voice suddenly spoke up that caught my attention; one that was as clear as a bell, and more beautiful than any I'd ever heard.  
>"Stay together, please! Follow me this way!"<p>

I looked around for the voice, exhaling in satisfaction when I found a cluster of people—undoubtedly tourists; they looked as lost as I was—gathered around a stunning woman donned in a long grey trenchcoat. Although the heat did not permit such heavy clothing, I—in my naïve sense—deducted that she did not want her amazingly pale skin to tan.

"Tours of the clock tower and museum this way!" she shouted, waving a gloved hand elaborately in the air.

_Ah…just what I've come for._

Not attracting any attention from the surrounding civilians, I tucked the map into the pocket of my jeans and pulled the sleeves of my long-sleeved shirt down into my balled fists; feeling a small sense of security. Though I had to admit that I was not dressed for the hot weather either, I always felt much more comfortable in long sleeves. Being tall and thin drew attention to me, and I always felt that my bony structure was rather embarrassing.

I slipped into the back of the group, walking behind an older woman who was holding of a young boy; I assumed she was his grandmother.

"Gramma, I don't wanna do this," he mumbled in soft Italian-lilted English.

"Hush now, Amadeo; it will be over before you know it." She replied with the same harsh accent.

I smiled softly at the adorableness of the little boy. He huffed in defeat, but then went quiet again as the group began to trudge forward. We entered through a small archway and deeper into the stone fortress. The temperature cooled considerably as we entered a stairwell; extending deeply down into the earth.

{ ~ }

_Marcus_

I stared blankly at Aro's back as he faced away from me, chatting animatedly to a neighboring guard member; using wide arm gestures, and obvious body language that indicated an exciting tale he was recounting.

Something that was only exciting to him, no doubt.

I rolled my eyes and placed my chin in my hand that was propped up by my elbow on the armrest of my throne. I stared at the rest of the guard, all standing in haphazard positions around the marble rotunda; most of them speaking to one another, and the last few, visibly working to control themselves as they impatiently awaited for our food to arrive.

The thought of murdering innocent humans was something that revolted me greatly, but alas, their blood was essential for my survival. Didyme had opposed the killing of innocent humans, and she would often wait with me on the outskirts of the chaos for the others to kill the humans before we would select our meals, say a small prayer for their souls, and then allow our animalistic sides to dominate, and devour them.

_Didyme…_the very name was enough to pour salt into a wound that had still never fully closed.

I closed my eyes, the sounds of the room dissolving around me until all I could hear and see was my darling…my _love…_

I watched her blonde hair blow in the wind, saw the mischievous glint in her eye as she would wink at me during a council session, heard the small giggle she gave when she saw something she appreciated…_felt _the light brush of her finger over the back of my hand…

"Ah! Welcome, welcome, my dear friends!"

My eyes opened grudgingly as Aro's voice rang through the rotunda, breaking my stream of consciousness, and pulling the memories of my beloved Didyme from me.

Aro beamed and walked towards the group, taking the hands of the nearest males and giving them a firm shake, even striking up a conversation with a woman on the side of the front row of the cluster. He chatted with her for several moments before stepping away; his grin growing.

"We now offer you a gift," he began. I worked to hold in a sigh. This was a simple speech that I had heard many, many times. "The gift…of silence."

With a deafening roar, Felix launched himself across the room first, grasping a young woman and pinning her to the ground, breaking her neck with a sweep of his hand, leaning down, and biting down into her neck roughly; drinking deeply.

The group took a few seconds to respond, but soon, the room was filled with screaming.

I stood from my throne slowly, strolling around the room slowly and corralling any humans that would try to run. I was waiting for the last of the humans to be killed before I would choose which human to feed on.

There was one girl in particular, who seemed to evade me. I sighed softly, sweeping over to her and grasping her shoulder in my hand spinning her around easily, and watched her stumble; falling straight backwards onto the ground.

I froze when I saw her face.

{ ~ }

_Amelia_

My heart lurched when the screams started. I could not see what was happening, but I watched people fall at the front of the group. And they did not stand back up.

Figures blurred around me as the screams continued. One man behind me yelled out in sheer terror, and then silenced shortly after. I watched in wide eyes as the old woman in front of me disappeared as well, her grandson screeching out in fear.

My right foot slipped in something liquid. I glanced down, and only saw red.

_Blood_.

Not able to muster a scream, I whimpered; spinning around on my heel and stumbling to the doors we had entered through. The doors were far too heavy for me to push open on my own, but desperation was setting in, and I slammed what little weight I had against it, grunting in effort.

A freezing cold hand gripped my shoulder, forcing me to spin around. The weight of my body centered on the foot that had stepped in the blood, and I lost my footing; falling straight down onto the hard marble.

I squeezed my eyes closed as I jolted against the floor. I flinched, and waited the blow that never came.

Tentatively, I opened my eyes slowly, and gazed straight into eyes that were a deep black; the pupils blending in with the rest of the eye, giving the thing before me a very monstrous and frightening appearance. I widened my stare and took in the face that peered at me.

It was pale white, and the skin looked powdery. If the frightening features were taken away, then the creature in front of me would have been a very handsome man.

_Extremely _handsome man…

I paused, wondering why he was staring at me.

His eyes looked so…

Vulnerable.

His lips moved slowly as he pulled back a little bit. His jaw quivered as if he was holding in an intense emotion. Then he uttered three small syllables I did not understand.

"…Didyme…?"

{ ~ }_  
><em>

_Renata_

I could not believe my eyes.

Mistress Didyme…sat on the floor of the throne room in human form, cowering before the man that was her husband. Er…had been in some previous life…?

No one in the room moved. As soon as the name of his wife escaped from his lips, the room stilled. Master Aro stood as still as a statue, staring at the girl with a gaping expression and wide eyes. Even master Caius looked a tad puzzled.

"My God…" Heidi gasped softly, putting her hand slowly to her mouth.

Master Marcus knelt slowly in front of her, reaching a hand out slowly to touch her face. He seemed as though he was suddenly sucked into a trance; he spoke softly as he did to mistress Didyme once upon a time.

"…Didyme…?" he rasped, extending his hand slowly to touch her cheek.

The Didyme-human shrank away from his touch, pressing herself up against the wrought-iron door to the lobby.

"Who are you?" she gasped, fingers clawing at the floor as if it would give her a chance to spring to her feet.

Master Marcus' hand continued to near her slowly. "It is I…Marcus…" he strained. My heart broke hearing his voice in such a condition. Master Marcus once had the greatest love of all time…then lost the greatest love of all time. Just thinking of it for a long enough period of time would depress me for an entire day.

The human shrunk away once again, sliding away from him.

"I am not who you think I am," she trembled.

Master Marcus' hand stopped; withdrawing back to himself.

The room continued to stand in awful silence, until Aro spoke.

"Chelsea…Corin…take our guest to her room."

The human jumped and yelped in surprise as Chelsea and Corin both flashed over to her and grabbed an arm—respectfully, yet firmly—and lifted her to her feet, escorting her from the room. The human's feet skidded across the marble as she resisted; leaving a smear of blood everywhere that her left foot touched.

"No!" she screamed, writhing in their holds. "No! Let me go!"

Master Marcus turned around slowly, facing us all with a heartbreaking expression.

"…She denies me."

"Brother, brother…" Aro said softly, walking towards him. "This is…an extraordinary situation we find ourselves in."

Master Marcus stood rigidly by the exit door, hand slightly outstretched almost in a confused manner.

He suddenly hissed. "What is this curse that has been sent to me?"

"Marcus, I can assure you, I haven't the slightest idea what is happening, but I will find out." Aro reassured him, putting a hand on his shoulder and clapping it supportively. Marcus nodded once, pausing before sweeping across the room to the private entrance that sat behind the thrones, exiting from the room, and slamming the door behind him.

"My, my…" Aro whispered, touching his chin with three fingers. "What have we here?"

{ ~ }

_Amelia_

"Please…!" I begged, tears rolling down my face and causing a few loose strands of my bright blonde hair to stick to my cheeks. The women that held my arms were impossibly strong, supporting me even though I was not assisting them with my feet. They dragged uselessly behind me as they continued walking me deeper and deeper into the fortress.

The female on my left abandoned my arm and brandished a brass key, unlocking a door on our right, and opening it for us. The other woman pulled me in, releasing me once I was inside.

I immediately collapsed onto my hands and knees.

"Call us if you need anything, Mistress…" the one said quietly, almost timidly; as if she did not know what to call me.

"…What?" I cried, turning around only to see a closed door, and to hear the lock click into place. I squeezed my eyes closed again and grasped the fur rug beneath my hands, letting out a wail of despair as I crumpled onto the floor and cried until I was too tired to even stay conscious.

{ ~ }

* * *

><p><em><strong>R&amp;R if you would be so kind.<strong>_


	2. Two Unwelcome Visitiors

_Amelia_

Something soft cradled my head as I turned it from side-to-side slowly, moaning tiredly as my unconsciousness swirled back into reality. I raised a hand to my face and rubbed it slowly, waking the last parts of my body.

I opened my eyes and looked up, immediately puzzled when my gaze hit a very ornate ceiling. Beautifully painted angels and cupids swam overhead in a sea of seamless clouds, sunlight glistening through the breaks of the stratosphere, illuminating a single human woman, lying peacefully on the ground with her hair splayed out like the rays of the sun itself. The woman was clad in the lightest and most heavenly shade of blue, enhancing the paleness and smoothness of her pallor.

_Wait…bed?_

I shot up from lying down, looking around the lush room that surrounded me. My eyes widened and my breathing escalated as panic set in.

_Bed…room…what…?_

Then, in the snap of a finger, it returned to me.

_The tour…the screams…the blood…that man…_

With a wail of despair, I flung myself down onto the bed again, covering my face to muffle my cries as much as possible. I wanted to go back to the hotel. No, I wanted to go back to the university.

No.

I wanted to go _home_.

Inhaling shakily, I wheezed and screeched; feeling my shoulders shrug in quick succession as the clenching muscles in my body overtook any means of control I had.

_What do they want with me? What sick, twisted, demented things would they do to me? _

I thought back to the humans in the marble rotunda, and saw the images of absolute and unyielding horror on their faces before they were brutally murdered.

_Why did they keep me? What makes me special? Why were they all so _intrigued? _What did they call me? Ditty? Diamond? Dide…? Didye…?_

With a small sigh of frustration, I turned over onto my stomach, burying my head into the fluffy pillow and trying not to dwell on the insecurity of not knowing how much time I had left to live.

{~}

_Aro_

As Corin and Chelsea left the throne room, I remembered how utterly…_confused_ I was. My sister…Didyme…had returned from the dead!

_To haunt me, maybe? Expose what I had done? Torment me until I admitted to my deed, and was ushered to my death?_

The thought alone was enough to make me shudder.

I pressed my palms together in front of myself and stood unmoving, thinking frantically. Though I supposed I was not the only one whose world had been rocked to its core.

Marcus also stood rigidly at the edge of the room, unmoved from where he had stood over her as she cowered against the iron door. His back was turned to me, but I could imagine his expression perfectly, for I knew him just that well.

"Brother?" I edged, taking a very slow step in his direction. "Marcus, look at me."

Marcus did not move for several seconds, but then his foot began to move. He turned around very slowly, keeping his head low. As soon as he faced me completely, he raised his head. His face was one I had not seen in over a thousand years…

Eyes were wide, mouth slightly parted in awe and shock, and his brow raised; animating his face more than I had seen it in a very long time.

"Have I gone mad?" he whispered.

Normally, I would have laughed at his words, but today…I was wondering that myself.

"No, Brother; I do not think so. If you have gone mad, then so have all of us. We all saw her."

"What is this demon that has come to torment me?" he said, still at an extremely low volume. His face contorted quickly into many different emotions that I could not read. The first one was fear, the one after was one of anger, and then it went back to sadness…then back to…

I groaned internally; it was impossible to keep up with.

"Maybe…maybe she has come back to me."

I froze at his words. He continued.  
>"We used to say that true love never died…the one time we spoke of something happening to either of us, we reassured each other that we would return in one form or another."<p>

I continued to stare at him. The rotunda rang with silence once again.

"I think it's dumb-luck." Caius said – a little too nonchalantly – from his throne.

I jumped as Marcus roared.

The sound was foreign to me. I had forgotten how fierce of a fighter Marcus was back in his operable days. He was the most talented hand-to-hand combat fighter I had ever seen.

"Don't you _dare_ insult her memory! This is not a coincidence; my Didyme is trying to tell me something. And this young woman – though I do not know who she is – holds the answer. And I will do whatever it takes to discover what message my love has left for me."

Caius and I both continued to stare at Marcus, for that was the most we had ever heard him speak in a single instance.

"Brother…are you sure?" I asked softly, treading carefully after his outburst at Caius.

Marcus nodded once. "I am sure of it."

The room fell into a stunned silence once again; the earlier shock still emanating.

"I…I shall go and see to her; see if she is comfortable." He said, voice growing in volume just a bit.

I nodded once.

Marcus straightened his cloak across his shoulders, reaching up the sleeves of the opposite arm and pulling his sleeves down, standing up straight and seemed to examine his posture for a moment, before walking determinedly out of the room.

Caius and I both watched him go; Caius chuckled to himself.

"My, my, it is as if he is courting her all over again."

I gave one chuckle, before my thoughts went to more serious points.

With Didyme, I was forced to execute her to keep Marcus in the Volturi. Would Marcus become attached to this girl, and would I have to rid of her as well to keep him bound to me?

Perhaps not. Perhaps I could get to her before Marcus and teach her the importance of being loyal to the Volturi above all others. Or I could simply order Chelsea to bind her to me.

_Aro, you codger; have you lost your mind? What makes you think she will be staying long?_

{ ~ }

_Marcus_

I made my way to the guest chambers, a million thoughts flying through my head, as well as a thousand emotions flashing through my heart. I was excited to see her, yet nervous. I was relieved that her words were true, and that she had returned to me, but I was also wary and doubtful; could this be a cruel trick of fate?

I arrived at the intricately carved wooden door and paused with my fist raised about to knock, gathering myself before knocking three times politely. I heard loud sniffling and material rubbing against material before a trembling voice answered.

"W-who is it?"

"It is I…Marcus." I replied just as softly, finding my heart throb with sadness at the very thought of me having to announce my presence to my love.

_She is NOT your love, vecchio._

_But she is…I know it!_

I dispelled the internal battle with a quick shake of my head.

"Come in," she said. I took a deep breath before turning the knob and opening the door slowly.

Once the door was completely opened, I saw her. She sat on the edge of the bed, hair tumbling gloriously across her shoulders and disheveled just enough to make her look deliciously bed-ridden, yet well rested. I would have thought was well rested if it was not for the dark circles underneath her eyes, and the frightful expression on her beautiful features.

I stepped in and closed the door behind me, and I did not miss the small shift she made away from me when I turned to face her. It almost broke my heart in two to see her so frightened of me.

"You mustn't be alarmed." I said gently, sending her a soft smile as reassurance. She still eyed me as though I would suddenly lunge at her.

"May I approach you?" I inquired, noting how on-edge she was every time I moved or spoke.

She paused for three whole seconds before nodding once, scooting yet farther away from me. I walked towards her slowly – giving her time to see my strides and course – before sitting down in an armchair across from her. She wrung her hands in her lap, keeping her eyes on the ground.

I watched her silently for several moments, until I concluded that she would not speak unless prompted.

"What is your name?"

Her hands stopped wringing each other, but still clung to one another in a death-grip.

"A-Amelia," she replied, voice still shaking and low.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Amelia." I said, trying to sound kind and slightly cheerful. Amelia's eyes looked down at my shoes, staring at them for a few seconds before returning them to the floor.

"What is troubling you?" I asked, trying to get on a topic that would require for her to use more than a single word. How I _ached_ to hear her voice again…

Her entire body froze and stiffened – surprising me, as I did not think it could more than it already had – and her eyes lifted slowly.

"Kill me."

I blinked. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Kill me," she reiterated, lower lip trembling. "The wait is agonizing, and I know my death will come eventually. Please just do it quickly and save my suffering." The end of her sentence wavered as she began to cry softly. She covered her mouth with one hand and closed her eyes, a single tear escaping her right eye, and rolling down her cheek. "I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry! Please…just end my misery!" she cried, shoulders shrugging quickly.

I stood to run quickly to her and pull her into my arms to comfort her, but I was able to stop myself. I had to painfully remind myself that this young woman did not know me, and I was not a friend to her.

Yet.

"Please do not weep," I all but begged, kneeling down on one knee in front of her and touching the back of her hand that rested on her knee. I did not take it, but I wanted her to know that I was in front of her. She sobbed once, and withdrew her hand from my knee the moment she felt my touch. "You are not to be killed."

Sadly, I did not know the full truth of my words, but I knew deep in my heart that she would not. I would rather be torn to pieces myself rather than endure the loss of my wife's returned spirit.

If she was in this girl, anyway…

She sniffled loudly and lowered her hand, looking at me. "What?"

"You aren't going to be killed, my sweet." I reassured her, looking up from my knelt position. Her eyes searched mine, retrieving feelings in me that I had not felt in many long years.

"Can you promise me?" she whispered, staring intently at me. "I do not wish to die…"

I reached forward – taking a complete risk – and took her hand, holding it gently with my own.

"I promise. I will defend you with my own life."

Amelia's brow crinkled, as she looked a tad puzzled; probably at the sincerity of my words, though I did not know her.

She nodded once, eyes still on mine.

"What are you?" she said, still whispering. "You're so cold; are you all right?"

My small smile fell slowly, the reality of her words finally sinking in. She did not know…

And according to vampire law, she had to be killed or changed.

How cruel to force either of those upon anyone.

"I am perfectly all right," I replied, pulling my hand out of her slowly, and raising it to wipe the stray tear off of her chin. She did not move as I touched her, but continued to stare at me. I held the tear on my fingertip carefully, not letting it fall, as I looked back at her.

"Gods above, you look just like her…" I whispered.

"Like whom?" she suddenly burst, voice rising in volume. "Tell me; I hate being left in the dark."

I could not help but smile again; Didyme used that tone when I tried to keep a secret from her.

"I think you need rest." I changed the topic, willing to leave her side. I felt my emotions rising to the point of losing control, and it frightened me immensely. How much control it took to stop myself from taking her hand…touching her face…kissing her soft lips…

"But-"

I touched her shoulder and guided her back down onto her back gently, pulling the sheets over her. "I will have food waiting when you awake. Rest well."

She babbled something incoherent before sighing and leaning back into the bed, her hair splaying out across the pillow like liquid gold, and making her look almost like a resting angel.

I sped my feet to leave before I could not bring myself to separate from her, and exited the room.

{ ~ }

_Amelia_

I was positively surprised by the man's kindness. _Marcus, he said his name was?_ His kindness, however welcome, was not enough to hide his obvious desire for me; it was not difficult to look into his eyes and see that _agony_…

But the other eye shone of happiness.

It was the most horrifying thing I had ever seen.

I pulled the blankets over my head and just wished to disappear. I wanted the world to go away, I wanted things to be all right.

I wanted to be dead.

_Could I kill myself? Did I have the means? I have no family, and no life other than school. Sounds good enough to me. But how would it affect that man?_

I didn't give a rat's derriere.

Without a second thought – or before I could convince myself otherwise – I threw the comforter back on the bed and jumped out of it, scuffling quickly to the bathroom and looking around for anything that I could use. I hadn't exactly planned how to kill myself, but I would prefer for it to be quickly.

_Bleed out? _

Sounded like a plan. I looked around for anything; a razor, the edge of a container, but there was absolutely nothing in the bathroom that I could use.

Except the mirror.

My solution came as I stared at my face, my eyes looked in front of my face at the shimmering glass.

Perfect.

I raised my fist, and prepared to hit the mirror. I wanted to shatter the glass, hopefully being able to find a piece large enough to cut a major artery with.

"_Don't_-!" a voice cried out.

Completely startled, I spun around, losing my balance, and falling clumsily down onto the tiled bathroom floor. I raised my head, and looked up.

Standing in front of me was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my entire life. She had hair like mine that shimmered golden, and fell down to her waist in perfect waves. Her eyes were wide, and sparkled in the dim light; I could not discern the color, however. She wore robes that looked almost as a fictional elf's would, flowing dramatically, and a lovely shade of lilac.

The woman was perfect, but the most frightening part, was that she looked exactly like _me._

"Don't." she reiterated, taking a step towards me.

"Stay back!" I gasped, reeling backwards and hitting the back of my head on the sink that hovered slightly above me.

The woman chuckled. "Be careful; I don't fancy the vampires around you smelling your oh, _so_ tempting blood, and flood your bedroom before I get a chance to talk to you."

The woman's laugh was like a perfect chorus of bells; like ones you hear at Christmas time that make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

"Come over here, I won't hurt you." She said, gesturing towards herself.

"No,"

She sighed softly. "Difficult, eh? I see we're going to get along famously." she beamed after speaking, tossing a stray lock of her hair over her shoulder and giggling again. "Come on, I just want to talk."

Too exasperated and impatient to deal with yet another unwanted visitor, I stood up off of the floor and begrudgingly walked back into my bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and giving the woman – my angelic look-alike – the most annoyed glare I could muster.

She sat in the same chair that Marcus did, but as soon as she was seated, she paused, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply.

"He sat here, didn't he?" she breathed, leaning back further into the chair.

I crinkled my brows and looked at her.

"What did you want to talk about? How do you know Marcus? Who are _you?"_ I pressed, desperate for answers, and feeling the last of my horror fading away. Being a captive was old news now.

"I'll answer your last question first; I apologize for my lack of politeness. I am Didyme."

I gasped loudly.

"That's what _they_ called _me!_ Why?"

She chuckled softly. "Perhaps because you look just like I did when I was a human."

"…Oh. And what are you now? Where did you come from?"

Didyme smiled softly. "I am what you would call a 'spirit', but the man who sent me calls me an 'angel'."

I stared at her.

I didn't believe in a heaven or hell…er…hell I guess proved itself to me a few minutes after I arrived in his forsaken place. Which meant that heaven had to exist on the opposite side of the coin.

"An…angel?"

She nodded once, folding her hands in her lap.

"Why have you come?"

She smiled gently. I have come because you have suddenly become very important to me, and to my husband."

I squeezed my eyes closed and shook my head insistently. "Stop, stop. Start over; what?"

Didyme took a deep breath and shifted forward in her chair a bit. "My husband; Marcus. We have been together for thousands of years, and we shared a love deeper than any I had ever experienced in my time on earth and in heaven. I love him with my entire heart still, and I wish for him to be happy. You, my dear, are my doppelganger. I put my 'essence' in you, per se, when I had the chance before you came to this earth as a child, in hopes that you would find my husband and make him happy again one day."

…Oh, my, gad.

"So…I'm you?"

She shook her head, smirking a bit. "No; you are your own person. But to put it bluntly, you are me in another life. And that is why I have come; to guide you through your transformation so that my husband can be happy again."

I nodded slowly, taking in the information.

"So I've been sent to replace you."

"That's a crude way to put it," she muttered, tapping her fingers on the armrest of the chair. Her fingers made no sound as they touched the material, and I swear that they were going through the material of the chair a fraction.

"Amelia – yes, I know your name – you've been sent for a very special and specific purpose. Now is not the time to question this; now is the time to embrace it."

"I don't believe you," I spat, standing from the bed and walking away from her.

"Believe me or not, there is proof. Why do you think your family was killed? There is a _plan_ for you, Amelia. Things have been set in motion that have been preordained and planned since the beginning!"

I spun around.

"_How do you know that?" _I hissed, clenching both fists at my side and prepared to deck this 'angel'.

"I told you…there is a plan for you."

I put both hands over my face, wishing to just curl up and die. Too much was happening at once. _Weird_ things were happening all at once.

"Amelia,"

"Leave me alone!" I screeched, rushing past her, and leaning towards her just enough to make sure my shoulder bumped hers as I passed by.

But I mustn't have leaned far enough; my shoulder hit nothing.

Turning around with a growl, I swiped at her shoulder.

Again, nothing.

But Didyme hadn't moved.

Didyme merely smirked. "Try for three?"

I growled again and went to shove her. But instead, I watched myself fall _through _her, as if she were made of nothing but mist. I felt a gentle warmth encircle me as I passed through her body and fell to the floor behind her.

"Oof-!"

Didyme let out an audible sigh. "I can't help you up, I'm sorry."

I turned around slowly and lay on my back, propping myself up on my elbows.

"You're a ghost," I stated, "Not an angel. You've been sent to torment me."

Didyme's face fell drastically into a frown, and her lower lip almost quivered. She spoke softly; sadly.

"I did not come all of this way to be a demon. I just wanted to help you. I miss my love _too_ much…he is a good man, and deserves to be loved. You are the only one who can do it for me…please…"

Something about her tone just tugged at my heartstrings. Marcus seemed like a nice enough guy…sweet maybe…but…she was basically asking me to replace her. Learn to love someone that was not my choice.

"I'm not going to force you to do it, but Marcus will never stand for you to be killed, and you cannot live with the knowledge you have now. You can't go; you'll never be free. This is your only option. It is not so bad…" she edged, sitting down on the edge of my bed.

I wondered how she could sit on my bed, but not touch me…

With a soft sigh, I got up off of the floor and knelt, running my hand through my hair in frustration and slight defeat.

"I'll give it a chance, okay?" I said, looking up at her.

Didyme did not smile.

"I don't want to force you, I just said so."

"No, I meant I'll give Marcus a chance. You loved him, so maybe I could too."

Her face lit up immediately. "You will? Oh, Amelia!"

Didyme launched herself at me – obviously unable to hug me – but she passed through me, giving me a small envelopment of warmth. I couldn't help but smile softly at her zeal.

Then my smile fell immediately.

"Hold on; _vampires?_"

She burst into laughter. "I see I have a bit to explain."

* * *

><p><em><strong>This chapter seems a bit…discombobulated to me, but it was VERY difficult to write. Please give honest feedback.<strong>_

* Vecchio – "Old man"


	3. Past Sins

_**A/N: A huge thanks to my readers and reviewers thus far! It means so much to me that you would take a few moments out of your life to leave feedback for me; especially with this story! It gives me a lot of grief, but I do so love writing it. **_

_**Enjoy this next installment. *smiles***_

After about thirty minutes, I had gotten used to the idea of Didyme being a 'spirit', or 'angel', or whatever she was. We actually got along _very_ well, just as she said we would. There were even a few times that she finished my sentences. It sent us both into giggling fits, of course.

She really was just like _me._

After the heftiness of what she had told me concerning the vampires that existed around me, she indiscreetly slipped into conversational topics, easing me greatly.

"The rooms here are so beautiful; does the Volturi usually have such grandeur for guests?" I asked, twisting a corner of the pillowcase as I looked at her. Didyme sat in the same chair that she did before – Marcus' vacated place – with her ankles crossed delicately.

Didyme shook her head. "The Volturi does not keep too many human guests. In the rooms, that is."

"Where do they keep them?"

Didyme paused. "In the dungeons. They are crudely labeled as 'leftovers'."

Her answer was slightly funny, but in a very morbid and disturbing way. I reviewed what I had learned about vampires in my head, and the pieces seemed to fit with the Volturi's lifestyle.

"Then why are the rooms so nice?" I edged, glancing back up at the perfectly painted angels that sprawled across the arced ceiling.

"They do have guests sometimes, but even the guest chambers are not as nice as this."

"Why is that?"

"Amelia…this is a Master's chamber."

I gaped.

"Marcus'…" Didyme added, her voice dropping to a whisper. "_Ours_…"

I stood from the bed immediately. "I want to be moved."

"What?" Didyme asked, also standing; puzzlement etched across her celestial face. "Why?"

"I don't deserve to stay here. This was your special place with your husband, and I am tainting it."

"No, no!" she gasped, standing and walking to me. "This _was_ my special place, but it is yours now. Remember all I have told you. You need to start thinking in those terms. Besides that fact, Marcus gave it to you. No one forced him to place you here."

I sighed, sitting back down on the bed, but suddenly too nervous to touch anything. Everything around the room looked liked a priceless antique, but attended to with such precise care; it was astounding.

"He sat right over there…" she mumbled, eyes across the room. I followed her gaze, and looked at an empty window-seat that sat in front of a wide double-door window. "When he told me he wanted to leave."

"Leave?" I questioned, crumpling my brow in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Didyme shook her head insistently, as if she were clearing it. "'Tis nothing but inane mutterings, dearie."

"Mmm," I replied, not convinced. I let the subject drop.

My eyes shifted around the room, resting on the small spot on the floor where I last remember laying after I was dropped off into the room.

"I have a question,"

Didyme perked a bit and looked at me.

"You can't touch me, right?"

"Nothing organic," she replied.

"So…" I pieced together the small pieces; if I fell asleep on the floor, then how did I end up in the bed…?

"How did I end up in the bed?"

Didyme smiled softly, her eyes diverting to the ground. "He put you in."

"Who?"

"Marcus. It was very sweet…I was watching from across the room. He was so…careful with you; tucking the sheets around and all."

I created a mental image in my mind, blushing madly from embarrassment. "Oh…_man!_"

Didyme giggled girlishly. "It was quite adorable."

A few moments later, her giggle stopped, and her smile fell. I could feel her sudden heartbreak and yearning to re-live that moment with a man she obviously loved more than anything else.

We sat in silence for a few moments, before my head spontaneously began to throb as if someone had smacked me with a brick.

"Ow…!" I cringed, grasping both sides of my head.

"What's wrong?" Didyme cried in a soft whisper, rushing to my side and sitting down. Although I was curious why she could not touch me, yet sit on the bed without falling through, I really didn't feel like questioning supernatural physics with the pounding of my head. _Oh yeah; organic nonsense…_

"My…head…!"

My vision swam, and shortly after, it all went black.

But the darkness did not stay. It was replaced by something bright…something happy.

{ ~ }

_Laughter filled my ears as a scene dawned before me – two people sitting underneath the hanging branches of a willow tree, chatting in low voices. By the sounds of their voices, I could tell that one was male, and the other was female. A man's face appeared in front of me, and he was smiling directly at me._

_It was as though I was reliving a memory. _

_A memory that wasn't mine._

_The man's face materialized completely, and I placed it immediately. _

_Marcus._

"_I love your laugh," he said, speaking to me. "It is one of my favorite sounds."_

"_How ironic," another voice said, one that I was not using, "Yours is my absolute favorite."_

_Marcus chuckled. "Witty, love."_

"_I get it from you," the female voice spoke again._

_Marcus' hand lifted to my face, caressing my cheek. I felt his touch…smelled his scent that reminded me of age-old forests and fresh honey. _

"_I love you…"_

{ ~ }

As quickly as it began, it ended. Whatever it was.

"Amelia? _Amelia!"_

My eyes refocused, and I flinched backwards after blinking caused me a small twinge of pain. My eyes had dried from not blinking for however long I zoned out for.

"Where did you go? You frightened me." Didyme inquired, looking worried. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap as her eyes darted across my face rapidly.

"I…I don't know…"

"Tell me what happened," she demanded.

I told her in exact detail everything that I had seen; Marcus, the voice that replied even though I did not speak, the setting, his words, everything.

I expected her to give me an odd look and perhaps a chuckle, but instead, she looked grim.

"It's happening," she breathed, frowning.

"What's happening? Didyme, stop dancing around." I glowered, anger rising in my chest.

"You are beginning to re-experience the memories of Marcus and mine's time together. We are more connected than I had originally thought."

…_What?_

"What?" I hissed. "How? Why now? This has never, _ever_ happened to me before! You did something, I know you did!"

"Amelia, please…"

"Don't speak," I growled, standing from the bed and pacing once across the room before rounding on her. "Tell me why this is happening now."

"I thought I wasn't permitted to speak." She smirked a tad, the corner of her mouth twitching.

"Don't you _dare_ play games with me right now."

Didyme exhaled softly. "Forgive me, you are just comical when you are upset."

I opened my mouth, about to make a threat to her physical well being, until I remembered that she couldn't touch me, nor could I her.

"You are experiencing flashbacks of some of my fondest memories. I'm not controlling them, I swear it. They will only go on whilst you are in this fortress. Until your bond is as complete to Marcus as mine was, you will continue to relive them."

"Why?"

Didyme shrugged. "My best guess is that something is trying to give you reason to love him."

"You. Are. Being. _Ridiculous."_ I said dangerously. I was really getting sick of her telling me I am supposed to replace her and bind myself to a man I barely knew.

Although I had to admit…he did seem very _sweet_; far more than the other two men I had seen – even though the one on the right did not speak, the scowl on his brow spoke volumes – and honestly genuine.

"Tell me something," I said, calming down a little as I figured she wouldn't want to answer my questions if I acted hostile towards her. "If you loved him so much…and he loved you…why are you like you are now? Wouldn't you still be with him, and living a fairytale life? What changed?"

Didyme stared at me.

"Things didn't work out." She muttered.

I scoffed. "What do you mean? Things looked perfect between you two. What, did he just turn the corner one day, and decide he didn't want you?"

Didyme's face twitched; she looked as though she was working hard to retain her composure.

I realized a moment too late I'd struck a sensitive chord.

Of course something like that couldn't have happened. If they'd been together for how many hundreds or thousands of years, a simple day of annoyance couldn't in a million years end that love.

I felt it.

She stood quickly.

"I feel my time here has expired." She whispered. As the moments ticked by, I watched her become more and more translucent, until she was barely visible.

"Didyme! Wait! I'm sorry-!" I begged, not wishing to be alone.

Didyme said nothing; instead, she lowered her head, closed her eyes, and cried softly as she disappeared into nothing.

I outstretched my hand to her, hoping in vain that she would look up and see it, coming back to me.

But she did not.

Immediately, I felt like the smallest, most worthless thing in the world. That girl had been nothing but nice to me, and I seemed to enjoy throwing her most painful memories straight back into her face.

My face.

_What is wrong with me?_

I flopped onto the bed, running my hands down my face. I held myself back from crying out her name, and pleading for forgiveness.

I'm very glad I did not, however. Because the next moment, there were three soft knocks on my door.

_Great. More people. Vampires. Whatever…_

"Wha-at?" I all but sang, more out of annoyance than playfulness.

"May we come in?" a musical voice returned, soft and lofty like a bed of feathers.

_We_?

"Sure," I said back, sitting up onto my elbows and looking at the door. The rich wooden door swung open slowly, revealing two women – both blonde and statuesque. The woman on the right held a tray in her delicate and deathly-pale hands.

Both of them stared at me with wide eyes.

"So it's true…" the woman on the left muttered. The one on the right merely nodded.

I sighed.

"Come to make a spectacle of me? I wish to be left alone."

The woman on the left giggled. "I certainly have not missed that cheek. May we come in?"

"I don't see why not," I replied, not in the mood.

The women entered, closing the door behind them. The woman on the right set down her tray on the bedside table, then stood steadfastly next to her glamorous counterpart.

"We apologize for the intrusion…but we just had to see…the entire fortress is buzzing about you." The woman on the left said, smirking a bit.

"Ah, great," I grumbled, feeling dramatically overshadowed by their beauty, and feeling extremely ugly.

"We wanted to see our sister again." The other female said gently, a wave of sentimentality washing over her perfect features.

Ah.

The other wives.

"Excuse me, but I don't believe we've met." I said.

"I am Sulpicia, and this is Athenodora." the woman on the left – Sulpicia – said. I nodded slowly as they introduced themselves.

"We brought you something to eat. Marcus reminded us that humans have different…habits than we do. It's been far too long for either of us to remember." Athenodora said, still speaking softly.

The very mention of food made my stomach make dying whale noises. Athenodora smiled gently. "I can see that we're just in time."

"Thank you," I said, reaching for the draped cloth over the tray, and pulling it off; revealing a plate containing two rolls, and a small cup of soup. With a grateful sigh, I grabbed one of the rolls and bit into it gluttonously. Sulpicia and Athenodora sat themselves down in the chairs across from the bed, and watched me eat with unblinking eyes.

It was unnerving, so I mostly concentrated on the food. After finishing the rolls, I tucked into the soup, taking slow sips, and savoring the tomato and basil.

"Who made this?" I asked, cleaning up a stray drop on my bottom lip with two of my fingertips.

"Marcus, he wastes his time practicing human cooking methods. We all thought it useless. Well…until today." Sulpicia answered, crossing two delicate ankles over each other, and folding her hands in her lap.

"…Ah," I replied. Frankly, I was getting sick of hearing that man's name. Marcus this, Marcus that, Marcus, Marcus, _Marcus._

_Marcus…_

There was several seconds silence while I sipped my soup a few more times, smacking my lips after my fourth spoonful.

"Do you remember us?" Athenodora asked, leaning forward a bit, and eyeing me with intensity.

"…'Scuze me?" I muttered, wiping the corners of my mouth with the back of my knuckles.

Athenodora leaned back and sighed gently. "You are so like her…yet not…"

I felt my blood boil again.

"Let me tell you something – "

Two curt knocks on the door interrupted what was going to be an epic soliloquy. I exhaled in annoyance.

"What?" I demanded.

The door opened – without my permission – revealing a gleeful looking Aro. _Gee, that explains the lack of permission to enter…_

Sulpicia and Athenodora both stood as he entered, Athenodora bowed her head as Sulpicia flitted over and planted a kiss on his cheek. I wrinkled my nose.

"My darling, I shall be with you in a moment, but I wish to speak to our long-departed _sister_ for a brief moment. I'll catch up with you." He said, holding her slender waist in both of his hands.

"Yes, my love." She replied, fingers trailing over his broad shoulders as her tongue teased the lobe of his ear for a moment before she pulled away completely, and walked to the door. Athenodora followed behind her quickly, pulling the door closed behind her.

I set down my soup.

_Frick…_

Aro's gaze fell on me, and I suppressed the instinct to run and cower in a corner.

"Dearest…Didyme. Returned to us from beyond the eternities…" he breathed. Something about his tone caused all the little hairs on the back of my neck and back to stand straight at attention.

Something was dangerous about him.

The smile on his face faded into an expression I couldn't read…curiosity? Intrigue? Regret?

No…

I jumped when he spoke again.

"How I have…missed you…"

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	4. Don't Pry

I sat wide-eyed, staring at the obvious king and leader of this group of vampires. His poise even shouted that he was the authority. His palms were pressed together lightly, his fingertips touched to his chin, as if praying. Yet, his eyes were fixed unblinkingly on me. The milky quality that the red orbs had seemed to unnerve me. I felt like a million spiders were crawling over my skin, and I couldn't move to even wrap my arms around myself.

Aro advanced slowly, taking slow, lingering steps. His suit did not even make a sound as the fabric rubbed against itself. Every little trait about him was so…_unnerving._

He repeated his words. "I have missed you, sister mine."

I stared back at him, unsure what to do. I settled for a slight nod, acknowledging his words.

Aro's face smiled just a bit, his lips pulled into a flawless half-grin. "How are you finding your quarters?"

"They're fine," I replied, shocked at how small and weak my voice sounded. I gripped the sheets in my balled fist, not taking my eyes off of him. He continued to stare at me, but his gaze was contemplative and curious, not shocked and awed.

I decided to break the insane silence. "Can I help you with anything?"

Aro chuckled lightly, lowering his hands from his lips, but interlacing his fingers, keeping them together. "No, no, sweet sister; I merely have a few questions for you."

I swallowed, preparing myself for interrogation. "Okay…"

He paused for several seconds – never taking his eyes off of me – taking a deep enough breath to raise his broad shoulders. "Are you angry with me?"

…_huh?_

"…Excuse me?" I mumbled, completely confused.

"Are. You. Angry. With. Me?" he reiterated, being condescendingly slow, as if he was afraid I was an idiot. His features were somber.

"Well…not 'angry'; I'm a little frustrated about why I'm being held here, and no one will tell me anything…" I said, deciding that this would end faster if I just told him the honest truth.

Aro blinked. "You are speaking of today?"

_Of course, you idiot…you were there._

"Yes…" I trailed off, turning my head to the side in bewilderment. _Was he dropped on his head as a child?_

A dawn of understanding crossed over his face. "Ahh, you are still bleary from your descent, I understand…"

_Descent?_ I couldn't hide my look of 'what the heck is wrong with you?'.

"Look – " I started, but he cut me off.

"Do you remember anything?"

"…About…?"

"Do you remember anything at all?" he asked intensely, walking more forward to stand in front of me. I leaned backward the closer he got.

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you not recognize me at all?" his voice became deadly quiet, his hands rising to touch his fingertips to his chest as he gestured to himself.

I shook my head. "Dude, look - "

"Nothing? Not a smidgeon? Not even an image from when we were little ourselves? Nor anything of heaven?"

…_Oh, Gatsby, I landed in the loony bin._

"No, I do not." I ground out, wishing to look anywhere but his eyes. I could not tear myself away from the desperate, intrigued…_sad_ eyes…

Aro suddenly inclined his head, his eyes closing off. "I see." he replied shortly, lips pressing into a thin line. He exhaled heavily, and looked…_relieved_.

I wasn't sure if I was seeing things, or if I was observing this enigmatic, obviously insane man correctly.

* * *

><p><em><span>Aro<span>_

_She doesn't remember. Perfect…_

Intense relief flooded through my body as I felt every muscle relax. She did not know of the deed that I had done to her. But many questions were still unanswered. Was she aware of her likeness to my dear sister? Did she have a purpose? Did she have any…gifts?

"I shall leave you, now. I can see that you need rest, my dear." I said, extending my hand to her in a friendly manner. My intention was only to see her thoughts.

She eyed my hand for a moment, not moving her hand. In a flash, I grasped her hand tightly – with no means of escape – and placed my other hand on top as well, concentrating on the stream of consciousness that I was working for. She struggled against my grip, but I held her fast. I wanted to know…I _had_ to know if she was my sister…if she was somewhere in this girl.

I did not get a chance, however, before a blinding and agonizing pain shot through my entire body. I stiffened, dropping her hand immediately and gasping sharply. I squeezed my eyes closed, stepping backwards, and hitting the door. Upon opening my eyes, I saw a horrified expression on the young woman's face. As soon as I could recover my senses, I approached her again; the reverberation of the sudden blow still tingling through my ancient body.

"How did you…?" I began, still staring in awe of her. She stared right back, sliding back further onto the bed and cowering somewhat against the headboard.

"Please…" she whimpered, gripping the pillow in one of her fists, her body trembling.

_Gods above, what a gift!_

And it would be all _mine_…

A smile slowly spread across my face as I just imagined the possibilities.

"Rest now, my dear!" I gushed, turning on my heel and bolting from the room, my mind reeling.

* * *

><p><em><span>Amelia<span>_

_Gottsfried's canned ham!_ I shrieked internally as the smile spread across Aro's face. I did not catch the last words he uttered before he rushed out the door, closing it behind him. After he left, I stared at the door, completely frazzled.

_Oh, sugar, honey, iced tea!_

_I've got to get out of here._

I sprang immediately from the bed, flying to the door.

"I knew he'd come." A calm voice said from across the room. I froze, spinning around, and sliding down the door, too weak to deal with anyone else. I was drained from the roller coaster of emotions I'd just experienced.

Didyme gave me a tiny smile, staying against the opposite wall with her hands held together. She looked somewhat timid, eyeing me carefully.

"…You came back." Was all that I could muster.

"Of course I came back; I can't leave you to deal with this alone." she replied, still smiling carefully. I stood up from where I was, walking towards her.

"Oh, Didyme; I'm so glad that you did. I need you." I whimpered out, rushing to the bed and flopping down onto it before I lost consciousness. Warmth spread across my back as I lied on my stomach. I turned my head to see Didyme with her hand on my back, rubbing it slowly. Although she could not actually 'touch' me, I could feel the warmth of her attempt.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"You are welcome." she smiled, continuing to soothingly rub my back with the warmth of her hand.

"I'm so sorry for what I said; I shouldn't have been so insensitive, I – "

"Shh, shh…" she cooed, silencing my words. "I know."

"How can you forgive me so easily after the things I said?" I asked, turning onto my side to look directly at her.

She only smiled. "I learned it from my husband. He was remarkable with forgiveness. When I got angry, I would say the most hurtful things about my brother, or the coven, but never about him. Anyway, he would always instantly forgive me for being difficult. He was so…perfect that way." she all but gushed. I could tell from the way her words were pronounced that she was smiling.

She truly loved him. Anyone could see that. It was endearing; beautiful.

_She obviously loved him for a reason; do you think you could too?_

…_What are you saying?_

I exhaled heavily, flopping my face down onto the fluffy mattress with an incoherent grumble. Didyme giggled.

"What?" I growled.

"You're just so funny when you're scatterbrained."

I gave another warning growl, to which sent Didyme into another chorus of laughing. I decided to give up before I tried to tackle her, and end up shoving myself onto the floor instead.

As the minutes passed, the hand that Aro had touched continued to stay cold, and tingle just a bit. I lifted it up, examining it for some unknown reason, but trying to figure why his touch lingered. I hated it; I wanted it _off_.

"What's wrong?" she asked, puzzlement laced into her voice.

"I just…can't get it off."

"What do you mean?" she asked, leaning her head closer to my hand.

"Him. I can't…shake that feeling…"

Didyme frowned, attempting to take my hand in both of hers, but ended up enveloping it in a layer of warmth instead. The feeling of Aro dissipated in a few seconds, leaving me with lingering warmth as she removed her translucent hands.

"Thank you," I mumbled, sitting up off the bed and hugging my knees.

Didyme observed me quietly for a moment. "Are you all right?"

I paused for several seconds, and then shook my head. "No…no, I'm not." I said weakly. The entire day was crashing down on me, and it was too much. The pressure on my shoulders and in my chest was crushing; suffocating…

"What was he doing? Why did he have to touch me? Scare me like that?" I said, my voice simpering and pathetic as fear wove its way into my thoughts. Didyme shushed me again, cooing me almost.

"Do you know about his gift?"

"Hmm? Gift?"

Didyme let out a light chuckle. "Do you remember when I told you that some vampires have supernatural gifts? Extra talents, as it were?"

I nodded once. She continued. "Aro's is tactile telepathy; he has the ability to see every thought you've ever had with a single touch."

_Wow_.

I sat in absolute awe. "Every single thought? As in…_every_ thought?"

"Yes,"

Embarrassment flooded my mind. _Everything? Every malicious, angry, sad…steamy…thought I've ever had, he knows about!_

Didyme hummed loudly, trying to get my attention back. She smiled gently as my eyes went back to her.

"Everything?" I said again, my voice a mere squeak.

"Don't worry," she said comfortingly. "He did not see anything."

"How do you know?" I whimpered out, the very idea that he has seen the most intimate thoughts of my mind, and was probably mulling over them right now in his head, mumbling 'stupid human…'.

"Because I stopped him."

"How-?"

Suddenly, the pieces clicked. The expression on his face, the way he jumped away from me quickly as if I was a snake, the way he gawked at me afterward.

"I didn't know I could do that." I said, eyes wide.

Didyme burst into laughter. I glared at her.

"You are so silly." She giggled. "You can't do that. I did it for you."

_Dang it._

"Why?" I questioned, sick of all of her little games.

Didyme straightened her dress, folding her hands in her lap. "Let's just say that I don't want him to know about my plan just yet. My brother has a way of…getting in the way."

"Mmm," I replied, not knowing much else to say. "Is he always so…creepy?"

"Creepy?"

"Stares like a ten-year-old boy at a zoo with a weird mix of pedophile-ness…" I said, scrounging for words to describe the character in my room only minutes earlier.

Didyme snorted.

"He's not always like that, but I can see how you'd see him that way. He can actually be incredibly sweet when he wants to be. He means well, I assure you." She replied.

"Yeah, okay." I said, maybe a little too sarcastically. Didyme gave me a sideways look, then tore into giggles.

"Pedophile?"

"Yes!" I said, completely serious. Didyme continued to giggle for several moments, sobering herself with a dainty cough.

"Why did he want to see my thoughts?" I asked, twirling a piece of my part-of-a-set blonde hair, glancing at Didyme's matching locks.

"He's curious; he likes seeing everyone's thoughts. I think it's an entertainment thing for him."

"But that doesn't explain everything," I sighed. "Why the spectacle of me? I obviously look like you, but why does that bother him so much?" I understood perfectly well why Marcus was intrigued with me, the same as the other women who came earlier, but what hand did Aro have to play in all of this?

"He's my brother,"

"Yeah, him and everyone else here…"

She rolled her eyes. "No, stupid; he's my _actual_ brother. We're related by blood."

"Ohh," I hummed. "Got it."

But wait; that still didn't explain his behavior.

"Does he think I'm you?"

Didyme's lips pulled into a grim line. "I think he's hoping you're not."

"Why?"

Didyme shrugged. "Let's just say it's a sensitive subject."

"No, tell me. I need to know."

Didyme shook her head, closing her eyes. "Amelia, you're not ready."

I huffed. "Not you too. Telling me that I can't even be informed about the things that concern _me!_"

"Listen to me, young lady," Didyme said, suddenly putting on a dark tone that made my hair stand on end. "There are things about this world that you don't need to know. Things that can be disturbing and dark; I need you to trust me when I say that you will not understand right now. Please have patience."

I stared at her, scared and awed at the same time. Gone was carefree Didyme; in her place was the powerful angel that she was. I dropped my head immediately, feeling as if God himself has scolded me through her. _Gads, I just disappoint everyone, don't I?_

I rolled my lips inward, my eyes brimming with tears of shame. "I'm sorry." I said, my voice betraying my emotion at the end, and breaking a bit.

A few moments later, I felt a warmth cocoon around me fully, hugging me on all sides. I sniffled, leaning into the warmth.

"It's all right; I'm back." She whispered into my ear. The warmth continued to hug me close. I trembled a bit, laying down onto the bed with the warmth still on me.

"I'm sorry, you didn't deserve that." She soothed.

"Yes, I did." I replied, my voice still trembling. "I've always been pushy. And I shouldn't be; you're my only friend…"

She smiled, and I felt a small dot of warmth on my cheek. She must have kissed me. "And you're mine."

I smiled for the first time in what seemed to be a long time. Before I knew it, my mind was drifting off to sleep, and my body with it.

"Didyme?" I mumbled drowsily.

"Hmm?"

"I think he's nice."

She knew exactly whom I was talking about. I could hear her smiling as she spoke. "He's lovely; I'm glad you like him. He'll do something special for you soon, I know it."

I wished to reply, but I was unable to, for my eyes drooped, and I was gone.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Don't forget to review, lovelies.<strong>_


	5. Reacquanting

I awoke the next day alone, in the celestially comfortable bed, and staring at the muraled ceiling. I could never get enough of the beautiful painting. The colors were just so dramatic, but clear, and blended together well. The mural could not have been painted by just some interior design company, or even a professional painter.

This had to have been done by a master.

I studied the angels again, my eyes falling on the one at the bottom, with golden hair that matched mine. I never studied her face closely, but this morning, I noticed that she looked exceptionally like me. And Didyme.

_Holy Hannah, it's Didyme!_

…_Good job, stupid._

I let out an audible gasp, covering my mouth. It made so much sense. It's amazing how dull I could be sometimes.

Marcus. Marcus must have painted this. Who else could have? No one else would have taken the time to add just detail, such emotion, and artistry. Passion was woven into the very fiber of the colors. And it showed. I felt that crushing pain again through my chest. Half of it being absolute sympathy and sorrow for him, and the other half, pressure to go through with Didyme's express wishes. I still hadn't agreed to do what she wanted…and I had to admit, it was getting less and less appealing as the days went by.

I mean…look at her crazy brother.

The other wives weren't that bad, I guessed. They were kind, beautiful, and contrite. I have no idea how Aro snagged a beauty like Sulpicia, but they seemed happy together. I knew nothing about Athenodora's relationship with the one called Caius, but I assumed that they were still together for a reason.

Which is why seeing Marcus' forlorn expression broke my heart so.

Was this happening? Was I actually developing _feelings_ for him? It couldn't be so. It just cannot be…

How could I not? Seeing him love someone else so purely, so absolutely; it's what every woman wants, right?

_Then why not you?_

I sighed at myself, flopping my hand down to my side in exasperation. A few moments later, my stomach made itself known by making the recurring dying whale noise.

"Oh, shut it." I growled back at it, as if my intimidation would quell its whining.

I really was hungry, though. What time was it? I had no idea. The thick drapes were drawn all about my room, and I wasn't sure if I was allowed to touch them or not.

Something about the room just made me feel as if it was sacred. Perhaps it was because this was Marcus and Didyme's special place; a reprieve where they could go just to be with each other – where they could escape the criticisms of the outer world just to assure one another that they were still madly in love.

I pursed my lips in a half-smirk, turning more into a face of contemplation, and approval of my own thoughts. _Good insight; not bad_… I patted myself on the back with a small silent compliment. But my question still wasn't answered; what time was it?

I slid from the bed tentatively, hugging my arms around myself as the cool air hit my skin, soon riddling me with goosebumps. I walked towards the bathroom, but stopped as I saw something set on the side-table next to the door. It was a plate filled with fruit. I let out an uncharacteristically gleeful gasp, and dove right into the grapes, throwing in three large ones simultaneously, chewing them loudly. As soon as I was able to compress the too-large mouthful, I swallowed, exhaling in relief.

"You pig." A voice teased; from the sound of it, the speaker was grinning. I rolled my eyes and turned around to see Didyme lounging on the bed, smirking madly. I had half a mind to throw a grape at her.

"Hey, I'm hungry, all right? Back off."

She giggled. "You're snarky this morning."

"You're annoying, as always."

"Touché."

"Don't bother me; I'm eating." I grumbled, taking a bite into a ripe peach, moaning in ecstasy at the flavorful taste.

"I'm sure that's not all you'll have to eat today."

I didn't answer, but rather, finished the juicy peach, and tossed the core back onto the plate. I demolished the rest of the fruit within the next five minutes, wiping the corners of my mouth daintily afterward, almost in a mocking-sarcastic fashion.

"He stopped by this morning." She mumbled.

I froze for a moment, turning around to look at her for the first time since her appearance. "…He did?"

She nodded. "He's the one who brought the fruit. He's the one who does everything. I'm glad he took such an interest in culinary arts; no one in this fortress knows how to cook." She snickered, smoothing her skirts to lie flat over her knee.

I looked at the plate again. The fruit was very carefully arranged, and each one was ripe and well grown. There weren't any deformities or anything on them. I got a sudden unwelcome mental image of Marcus setting each piece of fruit on the plate, straightening it, then stepping back to survey the entire image, seeing if it was to his standards.

"Hello? Earth to Amelia?" Didyme sang.

"Huh?" I startled a bit, bringing my attention back to her.

"Where did you go?" she asked with a soft smile, standing.

I shrugged off her curiosity. "Just thinking…"

Didyme smiled a little wider and then paused, her eyes glancing at the door. "You have a visitor." She said, her smile softening to just a hint of one. A look of longing spread across her face, but it was soon replaced by a radiant smile. "Guess who?"

I gasped softly, running to the mirror to check my bedraggled appearance. And just as I thought, I looked pretty rough.

"Help me!" I shrieked, pinching my cheeks and smacking them with my palms several times in quick succession to give myself color. "Ow!"

"I can't!" she laughed, watching me run around like a madwoman. I ran my fingers through my hair and fluffed it, giving a sigh of defeat just before there were three knocks on the door.

"Who is it?" I asked, having a pretty good idea already of who it was.

"Marcus," a deep, misused voice answered. "Are you all right? I heard commotion…"

"I'm-I'm fine!" I spluttered back. "Just give me a moment!" I ran to the bathroom door and grabbed the robe that hung on a hook on the back, throwing it on, and tying it around my middle. I patted the bow once it was done. "Come in."

The door opened slowly, revealing a very dapper-looking Marcus. He was wearing a suit of dark grey, with emerald lining, and a matching handkerchief sticking out of his breast pocket. His usual heavy exterior cloak, giving him a broad-shouldered appearance, was the only piece that marred the outfit. He smiled softly when his eyes made contact with mine.

"Still in bed at this late hour?"

I blushed. "I don't know what time it is…"

He chuckled lowly, airily. He reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a small, silver pocket-watch, opening it with a click with his thumb. "It's a quarter to three."

"_PM?"_ I gasped. "I never sleep that late, I swear." I said, as if I had to give him an excuse to my late awakening. He chuckled again, outstretching the pocket-watch to me.

"Here; you may have it." He reached to the top and disconnected the matching chain, setting it into my sweating palms. He closed my fingers around the object with both of his hands, holding them there for a moment before pulling away. "I've come to ask something of you."

"You may ask it." I replied, feeling my vocabulary having to step up a notch to match his distinguished use of it.

He continued to smile his small smile. "I was wondering if you would accompany me on a walk? I thought we could take a bit of food and make it a picnic. I would very much like to show you the grounds. And I bet you would like a bout of fresh air, yes?"

_Fresh. Air._

_Yes, please!_

"I would love to…" I returned, breathless. My voice was lofty and quiet, surprising me. I glanced over to where Didyme was seated, half-expecting to see her, but only saw her vacated place in her stead.

"Wonderful. I shall return in an hour. Do you require assistance dressing?"

My eyes widened a fraction. Although I knew he was not offering _himself,_ the very mental image of Marcus pulling my sleeves over my shoulders and lacing up the back of my dress was very…unsettling.

And arousing.

I knew I would need some help with the dresses; I looked at them in the wardrobe when I came out of my first shower, and was shocked to see that they weren't just dresses. They were _gowns_. As in fully corseted, lacy, fluffy gowns!

A blush heated up my face as I imagined his cold hand brushing up my bare back to my shoulder…

"I'll ah…return then." He said quietly, taking a step towards the door. I must have zoned out again. _Dang it!_

I couldn't find the will to speak; instead, I watched him exit my room, closing the door with care. I slumped against the bedpost, clutching my racing heart.

"Why is it that when he leaves, I always feel so…"

"Exhilarated? Flustered?" Didyme's familiar voice rang out across the room. I looked to her with wide eyes, seeing her back in her momentarily vacated spot.

"Yes." I whispered.

She giggled quietly. "Perhaps it's because that's how I felt whenever he left. I felt very incomplete when he left the room. Like half of me had just walked away."

Ah. She'd described exactly how I felt at the moment.

"But…_why?_ I don't love him. At least…I don't think I do."

"I don't think you do…you're mostly just feeding off of what I'm not meaning to give you. Remember…you are me."

"No, I'm not." I growled lowly, feeling like stomping my foot. Why did she have to keep doing that? Why did she have to make me feel like I was just a part of a huge plot? A conspiracy that would just leave me unfulfilled and used at the end? I hated it.

"You can deny it as long as you want. But think about it; why do you keep getting flashbacks from _my_ memory? Why do you find yourself feeling certain emotions without having any control?" She rose from her hair again, walking towards me with measured steps. "The sooner you just accept it, the sooner things can progress. And you can be happy."

"You mean _he_ can be happy!" I snapped.

"That's what I said; you. He is a part of you, you are a part of him."

"Shut up. Just shut up." I snarled, turning around and throwing open the wardrobe with more force than necessary. "Now, help me pick a blasted dress!"

* * *

><p><em><span>Marcus<span>_

I held my breath as I packed the last of the dessert into a moderately-sized wicker basket, draping a small cloth over the top to preserve the integrity of the food – and to shield me from the smell – and then closing the lid, slinging it over my elbow. Though my offer to accompany Amelia on a walk was rather spontaneous – for I had not gone to her chambers to invite her on an outing – I was very excited at the very idea of being able to spend time with her.

Alone. Uninterrupted. _Safely_.

I just wanted to hear her speak; the sound of her voice was lulling and comforting. I wanted to hear about her interests; maybe they mirrored my own. Maybe they mirrored _hers_.

_Is that what this is about? A sick, twisted cross-examination of the girl you think has come back to you?_

The thought froze me in my tracks. What was I doing? What would happen if I found that she was not like Didyme at all? What if this was all truly coincidental?

I prayed that it was not, for if it was so, she would have to be put to death for being exposed to our secret.

And I could not bear it.

I could not even imagine the agony of having to endure her death.

_Not again…_

A small sound behind me startled me from my reverie. I straightened, spinning around. Jane stood in the doorway, eyeing me with narrowed eyes.

"Are you well, Master?" she inquired, her voice low, and her eyes glinting devilishly. They flickered to the basket on my arm, then back to my face. If it were not for the small smirk on her face, I would have believed that she had genuine concern for my wellbeing. I knew perfectly well how pathetic her opinion was of me. Since she was changed as such a young age, she was not able to mature enough to learn what true love or infatuation felt like. She and Alec were stuck in eternal youth; both physically and mentally. She thought me weak for my inability to function because of the loss of my wife.

But she wasn't the only one who didn't understand. But did I ask her to?

"I am well." I returned shortly, willing her to go away.

Her footsteps did not leave, nor did she move at all.

"What are you doing? Packing food for the human?"

"Is it that obvious?" I quipped lightly, holding the basket on my elbow. "I was packing to eat for myself." I finished, adding a small tone of rare sarcasm at the end.

Jane's lips tightened. She was displeased. _Let her be, spoiled little…_

"Why are you taking it? Where are you going?"

Something inside of me flared; and an emotion I had not felt in a very long time reared its ugly head.

"The last time I assessed, _you_ were not my Master. In fact…_I_ am your Master. I will not tolerate such insolence, and I do not care if you are in Aro's superior guard. You will behave yourself in my presence."

Gods, I hated using my title for gain. But in this situation, I felt it necessary to remind Jane of her place.

Her eyes widened, and she looked horrified. It was almost comical.

"Master, I – "

I did not give her an opportunity to reply completely; I side-stepped her easily, and sped-walked down the hall towards Amelia's bedding chambers. A small smirk graced my face. The feeling of the expression on my face was very foreign…

Cradling the basket carefully in my arm, I raised my fist, and knocked three times. I heard a scrambling inside, and her voice speaking aloud as if to another.

"_He's here!"_

There were another few seconds of shuffling before the door creaked open. Amelia stood in the opening of the door, wearing a lovely lavender floor-length dress with lace trimming on the skirt, her hair half-up in an elegant clip.

"Marcus," she said, breathlessly. Her chest heaved up and down against the restraint of the corset, her cheeks flushed with red, and her forehead slightly shiny and moist from her sweat.

It was astounding; I have the same effect on her as she does me. I'm sure I would be absolutely trembling if I were human.

"Amelia," I greeted, giving her a smile. She smiled back, the blush intensifying. "You look beautiful."

She clutched the skirt in both hands, swishing it around slightly and self-consciously. "Thanks…" she whispered, looking down at the floor. An uneasy silence descended upon us, and I broke it carefully.

"Join me?"

I extended my elbow – the one not holding the basket – and waited for her to take it. Her eyes shot up from the ground, looking at my jacketed arm.

"I…I don't know how…" she said quietly, putting her hand on my upper arm, looking at my elbow as if it was some sort of complicated puzzle.

I chuckled in spite of the awkwardness. "Here, _piccola,"_

I took her hand caringly, and threaded it through my arm, showing her how a lady holds onto the arm of a gentleman. She grinned slightly at the accomplishment, her other hand still steadfastly sewn onto her skirt.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice still soft, as if she weren't allowed to be heard.

"I thought we could go for a stroll in the gardens; they are beautiful this time of the year."

She nodded. "I would like to see them."

The formality in her tone was almost amusing. I enjoyed the formal tone that our conversation had…but it was also sobering. I wasn't trying to court her.

Was I?

"I like gardens; it's where I get a lot of my inspiration from." She suddenly said, breaking the few seconds of silence. Her heart rate suddenly accelerated, indicating the limb she felt she was currently hanging from.

I smiled a little wider. "Inspiration for what?"

She shrugged. "Nothing."

I frowned. "'Nothing'?"

"Well…" she edged, her hand clawing at the fluffy skirts. "I like to paint. I was attending an art academy before I came…here."

I startled, my head swiveling to look at her. She turned away from me, examining the stone floor. "Art school, you say? How wonderful…I enjoy art, myself."

Her head snapped to mine. _At last! Common ground…_

"Y-you do? What kind?" she asked, her tone upping in volume just a tad.

"I enjoy realism; impressionism…portraits of people. Landscapes are nice also, but I do like seeing a person floating in the paint – even if it is abstractly constructed."

She beamed. "I love painting. I could never get into sketching much, but I love walking away from a portrait covered in little splatters. It makes me feel productive…and like a piece of art myself." She giggled slightly at the end. The sound invigorated me, and immediately dissolved the remaining tension.

I chuckled deeply as well. "You do not need to be covered in paint; you are a beautiful piece of art already."

The sentence escaped me before I could stop it. I froze, gauging her reaction.

Her eyes were wide, staring unblinkingly at me. But then she blushed, and turned away. From the side of her face though, I could tell that she was grinning from ear-to-ear.

We arrived to the outside wooden door to the gardens shortly after. I held open the swollen door for her, allowing her to step out into the sunshine first. She did so, and gasped loudly.

"Oh-! It's-!"

She placed her hand flatly onto her chest, her heart fluttering for a moment as she took in her surroundings. Curled into a dramatic archway above her head were roses of every color, vines weaving their way up the sides. The arch continued several meters, extending into an almost-tunnel. She stood awe-struck for a moment, and then took off in a dash through the tunnel. She stopped in the middle and spun around, giggling.

"It's like heaven!" she shrieked, wrapping her arms inward around her body, continuing to study the haven. Her gaze came back to look at me eventually, and she was greeted by a pleased smile.

"It's beautiful, Marcus." She finally said, in a hushed tone. A smile still graced her features, lightening up the rest of the garden more than the sun.

I bowed my head slightly. "I'm pleased that you enjoy it."

"I really do," Her face fell a bit. "Is this the only chance I have to view it…?"

"Of course not, you are not a prisoner here." I responded, crinkling my brow at the slight tone of despair in her lovely voice.

_Are you sure? She has been locked in her room for days…_

I swallowed the venom pooling in my mouth. "Well…it is dangerous for you to wander the corridors alone. But you need only call my name, and I will bring you out here again."

She smiled a little as I finished. "Thank you."

"It is my undying pleasure."

Her eyes lingered on me for a short time more before she turned from me – her body turning before her head followed – and walked through the rest of the rose arch. I followed behind her, but kept several feet away, giving her space that I knew she needed.

Once she exited the "entrance" to the rest of the gardens, she found her way to an ornate fountain depicting angels and demons, both of which struggling to save and/or tempt the other. The point of the fountain's architecture and artwork was to point out that no one could be saved that did not want to be saved. On the opposite side of the coin, no one who wanted to be damned could be damned.

Unless you were a vampire. Then you had no choice.

The statue was never to my liking, but the garden was Aro's special domain; it was somewhere that he could go to be alone, and do what he wished for a few hours. I thought it was rather gauche, but it was not my responsibility. Besides…it kept him occupied; which made him significantly less annoying at council sessions. His gardening relaxed him.

"Wow," she muttered, sitting down on the fountain's edge, and dabbing her fingertips in the clear water idly. "You guys spare no expense."

I shrugged, not really having a reply for her words.

She giggled quietly. "You don't have much to say, do you?"

I smiled gently, amused. "There isn't much to say." _Liar_.

"Yes, there is. There's so much to say in a lifetime; how could you choose not to speak?"

"Perhaps there is no motivation to speak. Nor anyone special enough to draw an opinion from me." I said, quieter than I'd meant to.

She looked intrigued, then like she'd been hit with a brick. "Oh,"

I could almost see the wheels turning in her head.

Silence filled the garden; the only sound was the water trickling softly from the tip of an angel's wing.

"What's that?" she asked, gestured half-heartedly at the basket on my arm.

I took it off of my arm and extended it to her. "I packed a little something."

She took the basket from me and set it in her lap, opening the lid. She removed the cloth and grinned widely.

"How did you know I was craving cheese?"

I chuckled, the sound, like two rusty knives scraping against each other. _How vile._

She lifted a small cube of cheese and popped it into her mouth, closing her eyes, and chewing it slowly. "Mmm…"

I walked hesitantly towards her, and then sat next to her on the ledge of the fountain, watching her eat. Why it was so intriguing, I'd no idea…

She finished the small amount of cheese that I packed, starting on the bread, all the while, sipping water daintily. Her eyes glanced at me as she sipped from the container for the seventh time.

"…why are you staring at me?"

I blinked, not realizing my own creepiness. "I apologize; there is simply nothing else interesting to observe."

"So…watching me masticate must be a special exhibit, eh?" she giggled softly, setting the cup down on the fountain's edge. I chuckled my rusted and rare chuckle as she dove straight into the remaining bread.

"I adore artisan bread." She remarked, her tongue darting across what must be very soft lips, cleaning up the few remaining crumbs.

This young woman was fascinating. And even more interesting, she had several quirks that…_she_…used to have. Such as flipping a small piece of hair out of her face with one finger, but spreading the rest of her fingers into a claw as she did so, and crossing her ankles left over right, or the small exhale she gave after a small bout of laughter.

She really was just like her.

_Could it really be my dear, departed Didyme returned to me at last?_

We began chatting of idle things; art, science, literature, politics, architecture, and eventually, we strayed into more personal territory.

"My family…isn't…well…" she mumbled, the conversation suddenly becoming heavy after I asked about her immediately family.

"Isn't what?" I prodded gently.

She took a deep breath.

"They're dead."

_Oh._ "I do apologize; I did not mean to cause you pain…"

She shook her head, rolling her lips inward, and swiping her hand in the air nonchalantly. "It's not a big deal; we weren't really close. I mean…they did send me to the Academy, but I'm pretty sure they just wanted me out of the house. I was just a burden; a waste of space. I'm glad to be away, truth be told."

I briefly used my gift to examine the bonds between her family according to her story.

She was lying.

I frowned. "But you do miss them." I prompted.

"No, I don't." she replied through gritted teeth.

Deciding that it would be better not to push her, I let the subject drop.

She soon re-started the conversation with a question about the Volturi, and over the course of two hours, I was able to give her a full history; keeping out the blackened parts, of course. I did not wish to scare her. She asked a few follow-up questions, but mostly listened.

"I like hearing you speak." She said suddenly as I finished covering the 18th century.

I froze.

"Your words are always so kind. And intelligent. I like listening." She finished, flipping her hair out of her face in that all-too-familiar way.

I did not know how to respond. To cover up my puzzlement and embarrassment, I continued on the history of the Volturi.

Another hour later, Amelia was sprawled on her back on the grass, looking up at the darkening sky. I sat with my back against the ledge of the fountain, looking down at her as she talked about her years at the Academy.

"…I've only been there a couple of years, but I really like it there. I've made a few friends, and my professors say that I have a natural talent. I don't really know about that…but I do know that I love doing what I do…"

* * *

><p>"Amelia?" I called softly, touching her shoulder. The sun had set, and she had fallen asleep on the soft grass.<p>

"Hmm?" she startled, sitting up. Her hair fell unceremoniously into her face, making her look very discombobulated. "Wazzamatter?"

"You fell asleep." I replied with a soft smile at her adorable slurred speech. She rubbed a hand over her face.

"Let me take you." I said, wrapping my arms around her body, and hoisting her bridal-style into my arms.

She wriggled. "Don't hurt'cha back!"

I chuckled. "There is nothing to worry about. You are very light."

Easily – not jostling her – I walked her back to the fortress, and to her bed chambers. Although she had awoken by the time she got back, she still allowed me to carry her. About halfway back, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders. I smiled shamelessly.

"Here we are…"

I set her carefully onto her feet, waiting for her to sway and fall, but she never did.

"Thank you," she whispered, looking up at me. Our eyes locked, and an unspoken connection was made. Electricity flowed through the air around us, igniting a passion in me I had not felt in…

"For tonight, too. I needed to be out."

"You are always welcome."

I took her hand slowly, giving her time to react, and lifted it to my lips, kissing it politely. She leaned up on her tiptoes suddenly, and I felt her lips meet my aged cheek.

And I was right; her lips were very soft.

My eyes widened as I relished the sensation.

Without another word, she pulled away from me, and scuttled into her bed chambers, closing the door and locking it.

I stood there for too many seconds, absolutely dumb-struck.

_Oh...Didy-_

_Amelia…_

* * *

><p><strong>Please, please forgive the random sentences at the top of the chapter if you've read this already. I make notes to myself while I write, and sometimes I forget to delete them. I'm just an idiot like that...<strong>

**Review, loves. Following the story means nothing to me unless I know why you like it!**


	6. Anticipation

_Amelia_

As I was returned to my room, I couldn't feel my legs. I didn't feel like I was moving, except my vision confirmed to me that I was. I couldn't breathe…

A sensation filled my chest that threatened to cause my throat to float away, or get caught in my throat on the way up. What was wrong with me? Was I sick? Did my previous action repulse me that much? No, it couldn't be repulsion…

_If it is, why can't I get this stupid grin off of my face?_

I lifted my hand to touch the corners of my mouth, ensuring that I was actually smiling. The corners were upturned…_I was_.

My hand moved to cover my mouth in absolute shock. The alien feeling in my body was almost too much to bear. It made my entire being _ache_ for something that I just couldn't grasp. I felt like my chest was going to implode on itself.

"Goodness…" I whispered to myself.

"That was beautiful." A voice returned from the other side of the room. Didyme walked forward from the shadowed corner of the room where the candlelight did not shine, a tender smile on her own lips.

I just stared at her. "I assume that you saw." I spoke after several quiet moments. My breath came in gasps as my voice left in a whisper, unable to raise its volume. _What is wrong with me?_

Her smiled widened. "I did. He is so happy, Amelia. You did very well."

My heart fluttered as she finished her sentence. _Happy? I would love to see him smile. A real, genuine smile…_

"Was he?"

She nodded, holding her hands in front of herself. "How are _you_ feeling? You seem pretty…flustered."

"I…"

I paused. How could I describe this? I could barely breathe!

"I don't know." I managed.

Didyme looked slightly concerned. "Sit before you fall."

I obeyed wordlessly, lowering myself down onto the soft bed. I smoothed the soft covers beneath my hands, the finery reminding me of the exquisiteness of the chamber. The chamber reminded me of its owner. _Him_. Everything reminded me of him.

She sat next to me, reaching out to put her hand on mine. I felt the warmth from her entity, but not her flesh on mine.

"I think I understand." She spoke softly, her tone soothing me. "Because I used to feel the same way after he had to leave me to perform his duties. Even when he walked away for just a moment to groom himself…I felt what you feel now."

My eyes flickered from side-to-side as I looked down at the lush rug, my mind reeling. _I'm feeling…the pain of separation? Why would I? I do not love him_.

_But could I?_

"Didyme," my voice was surprisingly hoarse, "He is a very kind man."

She smiled, her eyes looking distant. "Yes…yes, he is."

I narrowed my eyes in thought, concentrating all of my energy to reflecting on this intrusive emotion.

Was it uncomfortable being with him? _Well, no…_

Did he treat me well? _Yes, very – like a princess or a queen._

_Or a lover._

When I kissed his cheek…what did I feel? _Something wonderful and long forgotten…_

Happiness?

I couldn't be sure.

"Yes, Amelia." Didyme murmured, startling me from my reverie. "I know what you feel. And you are correct. There was something undeniable between you two." Her volume dropped. "And it could be so much _more_ if you would open your heart to him. When will you understand? You were _made_ to love him."

Instead of her words – and the concept – hitting me in the face like a brick wall, as it did the first dozen times she spoke them to me, they seemed to almost be what I wanted to hear. My heart did not lurch, my stomach did not twist, or did my mind scream out in protest as I listened to what she said. I wasn't disgusted or afraid. My soul was open to it, and my heart ached for it.

Ached for him.

_Oh, my…_

My eyes widened as tears pooled from the earth-shattering realization. One escaped and trickled down my cheek to my chin.

Didyme looked somewhat triumphant. She put her warmth to my cheek, heating the skin. I had to wipe the tear on my own – it being organic and all – before looking at her.

"What do I do now?" I whispered, fear creeping into my heart. "Didyme, what do I do?"

She giggled quietly, pressing her ghost-lips to my forehead. "What I said; open your heart to him…"

I rolled my lip inward and nodded.

But would it truly be as easy as she made it sound? If I did…did that mean that I had to stay _here_ with him? In this fortress? With Didyme's creepy and insane brother? The thought was disheartening.

It made me yearn for his gentle touch all the more…

_Oh, for heaven's sake. Get a grip._

"I'm going to shower." I announced, kicking off my shoes and striding dutifully to the shower. She smirked. After all, everyone does his or her best thinking in the shower.

* * *

><p>As I emerged from the shower, feeling absolutely refreshed and squeaky-clean, I wrapped a fluffy towel around my middle and hugged my arms around myself, venturing out into the colder bedchamber. I smiled at Didyme, who had not moved from her place. She smiled back with a soft smile, her eyes looking as though she was occupied. I walked to the monstrous wardrobe and opened the wooden doors, selecting a silk robe and a soft floor-length nightgown. Since my arrival, I have noticed more and more things surreptitiously finding their way into Marcus' chamber for me – nightgowns, jewelry, cosmetics, and even fresh flowers.<p>

I knew who was behind it. And I was grateful for it. The little comforts made the thought of being trapped here bearable.

Of course, knowing that _someone_ cared for me made my stay _very _bearable.

After I slipped into the celestially comfortable clothing, I turned to Didyme – one question still in my mind.

"You said you'd tell me someday what happened to you."

Didyme's gaze turned to mine, her eyes solemn, and slightly widened. A mask settled over her face; a smile replacing her previous suspicious expression. "No, I didn't."

I scowled lightly. "Yes, you did."

"No, I did not." She smirked back, enjoying the battle of wills.

I folded my arms over the liquid-feeling material. "You said it was a sensitive subject; I think we're better friends now, and I think I deserve to know. I'm kind of at the heart of the matter."

Her amused smirk faded away, and was replaced by a more somber expression. "You're right, I need to stop keeping you in the dark. This will be your life someday."

I swallowed at how forlorn her last sentence sounded, shocked at the dramatic contrast in my emotions toward living here pre and post shower.

She shifted her position, and put both of her hands in her lap.

"I didn't just die. Vampires cannot simply _die_. Although, I suppose if one got old enough, a big enough impact or vibration would collapse them into shattered pieces or a pile of ash, but I digress! No. Amelia…I was killed. Murdered."

My eyes widened. Who would kill such a sweet creature?

"By whom?" I squeaked, floored by the news. "Was it an accident? A random act of violence, what?"

The corners of her mouth lifted briefly. "No, nothing like that. It was very intentional, and very well planned out. I'd like to say that it was an act of passion. He was someone that I trusted with my life. I loved him."

I gasped, covering my mouth with both hands.

"Oh, my goodness. Did _Marcus_ kill you?!"

I was shocked. Would he kill me? Was he a murderous monster filled with a well-hidden rage? It's _always_ the quiet ones!

Didyme looked furious.

"Of _course_ it wasn't my Marcus, you demented little twit!" she screeched, her fists clenching. I gasped and stumbled backward, hitting the wall with my back.

I pressed myself as flatly against the wall as I could, afraid of her rage. I swear the room dropped twenty degrees; I felt gooseflesh rise on my arms from the sudden chill. I shrunk down against the wall, tears filling my eyes.

_I'm so sorry…_

The chill soon dissipated, and the brimstone in her eyes evaporated. She looked at me as I slid slowly down the wall, my nightgown and robe bunched up around me as I curled into a ball on the ground, completely ashamed of myself.

But a small part of me felt relief. He wasn't a monster.

"Amelia…" she spoke softly, her voice filled with repentance, and maybe slight chastisement. "I love Marcus. I died loving Marcus. This is harder for me than you know – to teach you to take my place."

I wanted to just disappear. Be anywhere else. Away from how I felt.

"Honey, I'm so sorry." She whispered, her entity warming my shoulder as she touched me. I was too shocked to even cry.

Several minutes passed until I was able to right myself again. What was wrong with me? It never took me this long to recover from any kind of emotional shock.

"You'll better in time…" Didyme said, as if reading my thoughts.

"What…what is it…?" I replied, gesturing to nothing.

"Everything intensifies for immortals – strength, speed, appetite…and emotional capacity. This is normal for a vampire. Heartbreak, hate, revenge, and love are multiplied in a way that humans can never fathom or even feel."

"Does that mean that you hate him?"

She crinkled her brows. "Whom?"

"The one who killed you."

She paused, taking a very slow and deep breath. "No."

I sat up, startled by her answer.

"…What? You _don't_ hate the one who took everything away from you? How can that be?" I gasped, my gall returning. "Are you just one of those ultra-forgiving types, or what?"

I thought through her words again. _"I'd like to say that it was an act of passion. He was someone that I trusted with my life. I loved him…"_

"Amelia, I could never hate the one who killed me. And I advise you do the same for the ones who have wronged you. Hatred only destroys. It solves nothing."

Her words struck profoundly into a place in my heart. The wisdom and experience behind her words were obvious.

She was right.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, clutching my hands tightly in front of myself.

A silence descended upon the room as I stood there, feeling absolutely and unequivocally foolish. Standing next to this woman who was basically an angel, I looked like the scum of the earth – and I felt it, too.

"It's late," she said gently, a sweet smile returning to her face. "Why don't you get into bed? Tomorrow will be a new day. Who knows what treats you have in store for you?"

I smiled at her words, unable to help myself. "Treats" meant something wonderful, and presumably, from Marcus.

_Marcus…_

His name made the room seem brighter. I wanted to giggle and roll around on the floor in excitement, but my depleted energy gave me a stern look.

_Wow, I am tired._

I'm becoming a loon like Didyme's brother.

She smiled at me as I slid into the fluffy bed, snuggling in as I began to relax.

"Good-night, dear."

"Good-night, Didyme." I replied, smiling into the pillow at the excitement of seeing Marcus again the next day, before falling promptly into sleep.

* * *

><p><em>I was in a forest. One that I'd never seen before. I didn't know where I was. I couldn't find my way. Where was everyone? I found myself with a pressing need to find the people I had come into the forest with.<em>

_Who had I come with?_

_Sounds were suddenly heard in the distance, but I knew they were sounds I wanted to stay away from._

_I cowered behind a tree, listening to the sounds of boulders shattering and shrieks permeate the air._

_A hand touched my shoulder._

_I gasped._

* * *

><p>"Agh!" I cried out, shooting up from my bed. My hands were shaky and clammy, but I couldn't discern why. The dream was odd…but it wasn't frightening.<p>

Not too badly…

I reached my hand up and touched my shoulder, not feeling the hand there that had startled me from the dream. The dream made absolutely no sense. _Could it have been another odd connection from Didyme's memories? I'd have to ask her._

A gentle knock on the door startled me.

"Yeah?" I said, my voice higher-pitched than usual as I tried to feign normality.

"My lady?" a musical voice called through the door. It was hard to differentiate the different voices, here. They were equally as beautiful. Unless it was Marcus'; I'm not sure if it was because I was more inclined toward him, or if it was the telltale rasp in his voice from years of misuse.

"Come in." I granted permission for their entrance, lifting the quilt to cover my breasts self-consciously through my nightgown. The door opened, and the two wives of the Volturi Masters walked in with matching smiles.

"Good morning." They both said simultaneously. Athenodora held a tray of food covered with a clean cloth, and Sulpicia held a jug.

"Good morning!" I returned, smiling at the two women. I was strangely inclined toward both of them. I was unsure if that was Didyme's connection or mine…

"What do you have for me?" I asked, as though we were lifelong friends.

Athenodora grinned and whipped off the cover easily. "We have eggs, slices of assorted meats, and tomato soup."

European breakfast. I had to chuckle.

"Thank you." I said genially, patting my lap. She walked forward with the tray and set it in my hands, settling it neatly atop my lap. Sulpicia lifted the jug.

"And orange juice." She added, setting it on the bedside table.

"You both take good care of me." I said, picking up the fork to stab one of the eggs.

They giggled simultaneously, and then Athenodora spoke. "Marcus is very insistent concerning your care. He was all but dancing around the kitchen this morning! He seems so happy. It's so wonderful to see him smile again."

I paused. "Dancing?"

"Well…singing." Sulpicia corrected, looking highly amused. "Jane's expression was very entertaining. I thought her eyes were going to fall from her skull!"

I couldn't help it; I laughed.

_I bet Marcus has a lovely singing voice._

"Is he coming?" I asked, my voice, hopeful. "Soon?"

"I don't know, dear." Sulpicia replied, looking slightly sympathetic, but more touched at my eagerness.

The women stayed with me as I ate my breakfast, and we talked of many things. I found myself flushing in sheer awkwardness as they both broached on their sex lives. They seemed to forget that I was sitting right there, until Athenodora smelled my blush, and laughed for a full minute.

"Do you want advice?" she said, still smirking.

"No, thank you!" I gasped, wringing the sheets together in my hands as I suddenly imagined myself lying beneath a bared Marcus, and my hands trailing over his naked back.

They both giggled again, and then Sulpicia quickly changed the subject, taking mercy upon me.

Our next topic was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in!" I called.

A small girl – looking to be no older than ten or twelve – stood in the doorway with a solemn expression. She was holding a very colorful bouquet of flowers, with a small note attached to the stems.

"Jane, good morning." Athenodora greeted with the smile. The girl – Jane – kept a stony stare, but bowed her head respectfully.

"Mistresses, Master Marcus sent this for Miss Amelia." She said simply, thrusting out the bouquet. My hands reached out and took the bouquet as Athenodora ushered it to me, my nose immediately burying into the petals. I inhaled, smelling the fresh scent.

"Mmm…"

When I withdrew my nose, the little girl had disappeared.

"There's a note." Sulpicia said, tugging the piece of paper free from the stems and handing it to me. On the note, there was very elegant handwriting, which I knew was Marcus'. It couldn't have been anyone else's.

_My dearest Amelia,_

_I am unable to visit you today, and I truly regret it. I'm hoping these flowers will tide you over as I work. I have cleared my schedule for tomorrow, and I cannot wait to see you again._

_With all sincerity,_

_Marcus_

"You're absolutely glowing." Athenodora remarked. I smoothed my hand over his beautiful penmanship, smiling like an idiot. I couldn't wait to see him again. The flowers were so beautiful, I couldn't stop smelling them and running my fingers over the silken petals.

"We must go, dear." Sulpicia said, standing.

Athenodora grinned and stood also. "Have a nice day, Amelia."

"Good day." I smiled back, sliding from the bed to dress.

For the rest of the day, I was walking on air.

_I was going to see him again. Tomorrow._

And I couldn't wait.


End file.
